Find our ghost, and we’ll help save Kipp.One statement took my already upside down world, spun it in a new warped direction, and sent hot slivers of frustration through my veins. Another mystery didn’t interest me. My to-do list toppled with one important checkbox to mark off: find my ghost lover, Kipp McGowen, and return him to his comatose body.I glanced sideways at my friend, Gretchen. Her cinnamon-colored hair swept over the side of her face, deepening the grayish tones in her blue eyes. “Did I hear that right?”She nodded tightly. “You did, and they’re waiting for your answer.”What if I didn’t want to answer? What if I didn’t want to help anyone else? Hadn’t the time for someone to assist me—without my having to return the favor—been earned? Yet, here I stood in White Castle, Louisiana, presently cornered to use my gifts to communicate with the dead.Couldn’t someone cut me a damn break?Blowing out a frustrated breath, I scanned the mansion. Its fancy furniture, dating to the nineteenth century, had an overall charm with gothic detail and rich crimson fabrics. Even the scent of a spicy potpourri portrayed comfort. Sadly, the two people—excluding Gretchen—who currently awaited my answer, didn’t look friendly. Especially the crotchety man in his early forties, sitting in the dark wood antique wingback chair.I finally admitted to myself that I couldn’t ignore them. “Sorry, can you repeat the question?”Wayde Hagen’s light brown eyes blazed with a bottomless irritation I wouldn’t dare agitate. His thick, six-five frame put me on edge since next to him, I was a tiny woman. Though I attempted to hide the fact that he intimidated me, the coldness in his features, the sharp contours of his face, and his thin hard lips unnerved me.“I don’t need to repeat myself.” His low voice echoed off the high ceilings. “Answer the question.”I could only gawk at him. Were all the others so chilling?Truth be told, I had no idea what to expect when I first heard of the others from Gretchen. The entire airplane ride to White Castle, I drilled her on the group she belonged to. She explained some were mediums, others psychics, and a few more were witches. But tonight, only two of the group greeted me—if you could even call it that.While I sensed energy in the room, much like an elevated awareness, and assumed it meant all those present held some level of supernatural power, none held my abilities. Perhaps they might create a kick-ass spell, predict the future, or sense ghosts, but no one except me could see and talk to spirits.Some might think I’d impress them, but Wayde’s ice-cold gaze declared otherwise. To him, I was an outsider, and well, I’d prefer to be outside than near him. “Let me get this straight. You want me to find a ghost, and if I do, you’ll help me locate Kipp?”Wayde inclined his head. “That’s the offer.”I restrained my snappy response, considering a morgue would’ve been friendlier than talking to Wayde. He wasn’t the first to disapprove of my loving a ghost and I doubted he’d be the last. But I didn’t much give a shit what he thought. “Why do you need me to find your ghost?”Turning from the towering hand-carved marble fireplace with the blazing fire, the other woman, Amelia, smiled at me. She settled in next to Wayde and her crystal blue eyes warmed. Her shoulder-length honey-colored hair looked soft, leaving me to wonder what shampoo she used. Everything about this woman screamed gentle…and maybe a slight undertone of weakness. “Someone killed my father.”Perhaps that explained why she welcomed me so easily, since the matter was personal. “Your father?”Her voice trembled. “Or I should say, our Grand Master.”My lip arched as I glimpsed Gretchen, and she chuckled. “Alexander was our Grand Master. He ruled us for the last fifteen years.”“Oh.” What else could I say? You’re strange. Or, why am I here?Gretchen told me the secret society, known as Animus, was established in the eighteenth century. A group of supernaturally gifted had come together and formed the organization. Many of the founding members’ descendants remained.To me, it sounded like an unfriendly cult, since I hadn’t received the warmest of welcomes. Not like I would call Gretchen a cult member to her face. She’d bailed my ass out of trouble only days ago. When a demon had come to Memphis to feed on innocent souls, I had been given the task to rid the world of it. Thus, Gretchen’s teachings of witchcraft. Her assistance had led to the demon’s banishment back to Hell.Trust in Gretchen had been forged out of the weirdest circumstances, but it held strong. Perhaps I could see some logic in knowing others who lived a similar lifestyle, since without her, the demon incident might have turned out very differently, and not in my favor.“I know we’re asking a lot of you,” Amelia continued, leaning her hip against the chair Wayde sat in. “My husband sensed my father, tried to make contact, and failed.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I don’t know why my father can’t get through. Or why he’s hiding from us.”I gazed over her from head-to-toe. “Aren’t you a medium, too?”“No, I’m a witch.” She glanced down at the hardwood floors, drawing in a long breath. “I’ve tried spells to grab his energy so my husband could read him, but something is wrong.” She lifted her head, and a tear slid down her cheek. “At first, we thought the feeling of my father’s presence was residue of his energy, but my husband has told me it feels stronger than that. Almost as if he lingers and can’t break through.”“So, as we see it,” Wayde interjected, turning his hard stare to me. “You need our help and we need yours. It’s a fair trade.”Nibbling my lip, I considered the proposition and glimpsed at the crackling fire, focusing on the bright orange flicker in the flame. I’d give my pinky finger to find a way to locate Kipp. Not only did I miss him, but his disappearance made no sense. By all appearances, he’d just up and vanished without a single trace or a solid reason. I needed answers, not theories or heartbreak.The Animus had the power to find a solution. I wouldn’t sit around and pity myself any longer. If I didn’t agree, there’d be no moving forward.Looking from the fire, I focused on Wayde. “Find Alexander, ask him who killed him, and that’s it? No catch or read-the-fine-print hidden secrets?”Wayde snorted, and sat up a little straighter in his seat. “Precisely.”I found ghosts all the time—or they found me—and Amelia’s sadness proved this one recently died. The task didn’t seem overly difficult, but as the thought crossed my mind, I knew better. Usually easy turned out to be some hazardous mission I never should’ve accepted. “Before I agree, tell me how you can help me.”No hint of deception showed in Wayde’s gaze. “I’ll show you the way to cross through the veil into the Netherworld.”While hearing Wayde might hold such knowledge elated me, since Gretchen had zero answers and I was fresh out of ideas, believing him was another matter. I turned to the witch I did trust. “Possible, or a lie?”Gretchen studied me a moment, her brows drawn together, before she finally said, “The Animus possess witchcraft that dates to the very beginning of its creation. Anything is possible with the right spell.” Her head tilted, and her expression became knowing. “A spell I don’t have access to.”Perhaps before, I’d doubted her, since all this witchcraft stuff seemed bogus. Now, I couldn’t reject the idea that anything was possible. Since meeting Kipp, everything had been something upward of bizarre.The list was endless—Kipp was a ghost, but actually wasn’t dead, and in fact, lay comatose in a hospital; my recent experience with magical spells, and banishing a demon back to Hell; and the most implausible of all, I had fallen madly and deeply in love with a spirit.When Gretchen told me coming to the Animus was our best shot at helping Kipp, I figured we’d pull him out of the Netherworld, not send me into it. “How do you know—without a doubt—that you can help me cross into the Netherworld to search for Kipp, and I won’t get killed in the process?”Wayde’s eyes twinkled. “I know.”“Yes, good and all,” I retorted. “But how do you know?”Running a hand through his jet-black slicked hair, Wayde shifted in his seat and crossed an ankle over his knee. “We are the Animus. The knowledge you need is within our reach. I promise to share it, if you help us.”At my snort, since that reassured me about as much as someone holding a dagger at my throat saying they weren’t going to slice my head off, Gretchen interjected. “A promise by a Grand Master is exactly that, Tess. You can trust him.”Yeah, right.Something she said interested me, though. I turned to Wayde. “You’re the new leader of this…bunch?”He nodded. “In his will, Alexander requested I take over. This home always belongs to the Grand Master, so when he passed, the house was gifted to me.”I scanned the, more or less, American Castle in slight awe. Gretchen said it had sixty-four rooms within the three stories. From what I’d seen already, the mansion had ornamental iron railings, fifteen-foot ceilings, and innovative features. Wayde was a lucky man. “Fair enough.” I glanced at him. “But you need to do better. I won’t help unless I know, without a doubt, you’re telling me the truth.”Wayde frowned.“A binding spell might be the best choice,” Gretchen offered. “It’s a solution to the problem. Not only will you,” she looked at me, “feel the truth behind his promise when he does the spell, but you’ll also know he has to uphold it.” She glanced at Wayde. “And this will ensure Tess holds up her end of the deal.”Wayde hesitated, then gave a firm nod. “I’m in agreement.” He stared me down. “Will that suffice for you?”As Gretchen had told me once, magic had to be conjured in truth, honesty, and full belief or it wouldn’t work, which left me hopeful. If Wayde agreed to the binding spell, that meant he did have the answer I needed to get to Kipp. “Possibly,” I answered Wayde, then said to Gretchen. “But first, how does the binding spell work?”“Exactly as it sounds,” she replied in her sweet, soft voice. “Wayde will be bound to uphold his promise to help you cross into the Netherworld, as you are bound to find and talk to Alexander.”Another positive, but my non-magical brain needed more answers. “What will happen to him if he breaks his promise?”“His soul will become tainted.” Gretchen’s eyes darkened, voice thickened. “He’ll grow sick and eventually die.”“Meaning I could grow sick and die, too?” At her tight nod, I groaned and considered the pact. Did I want to enter into an agreement that could kill me if I reneged on it?Did I even have a choice?At my silence and obvious hesitation, Gretchen smiled. She hadn’t guided me wrong yet. I firmly believed she never would. Besides, if I didn’t help them, I’d lose my ride into the Netherworld. I didn’t even need to think it over. “All right. I’m in.” I hesitated. “Wait. This isn’t a blood promise, is it?”

Evan Marshall slowly stood from his seat, glaring down the long table of executives. “You accept now, or the deal is dead.”

Brooke Silverwood, CEO of Silverwood Bayes, a research and development investment company, leaned forward, giving him a full view of her cleavage. “I do believe we can do without the threats, Mr. Marshall.”

While this merger would bring together two powerful companies—his successful business, Marshall & Pasley, a research-based pharmaceutical and healthcare company, and Brooke’s multimillion dollar enterprise—the endless back and forth about the merger grated on his last nerve.

More to the point, each hour spent with her only increased his frustrations. He’d grown tired of being teased by her, whether she was aware of it or not. If something didn’t break soon, he’d bend her over that table, lift her skirt and bury himself deep into her cunt.

Too bad for him an ugly truth remained—business before pleasure, something he had to continually remind himself of. This deal would secure his company. His cock held no place in these discussions.

At his continuing silence, Brooke gave him a sassy smile then she glanced around the room, focusing on each of the men who made up her team. “Let me speak with Mr. Marshall alone for a minute.” Gesturing toward the door, she continued in her husky voice, “Leave us.”

Without hesitation, her team left the modern office and Evan snorted. Being a CEO of his own company, he could understand the power she held, but he wouldn’t have responded to her in that quick of a fashion.

Even over the past days, she held quite the presence and he admired that about her. But he wanted to teach the woman that not every man bent to her will. And he wanted to give her the lesson with her naked and beneath him.

Realizing his thoughts had once again traveled to a place he shouldn’t go, he stretched his neck, focusing his mind back into his brain instead of in his pants. He should never have offered to flesh out the details of the merger and should’ve sent his business partner Robert Pasley instead. Then he wouldn’t have suffered a 24/7 hard-on for days now, nor would he have spent every night and morning jerking off to ease the tension.

Robert had dealt with the merger up until this point, since he always managed the business end. Evan handled the employees and other in-office details. The partnership worked. This shit wasn’t anything he preferred.

As the thought raced through his mind, he also knew exactly why he’d come to New York City. His dick had led him there. That deep, sensual tone of Brooke’s on the telephone meetings had been the entire reason he came instead of Robert. He’d had to meet this woman.

Only problem?

The fantasy of her he’d built in his mind didn’t compare to the reality. He suspected that raspy voice wouldn’t belong to an attractive woman. Brooke, with her long, straight dark hair, womanly figure and pouty lips that he’d imagined sucking him off—a few times over—stunned him.

However, his marvel of her lasted a day. Now she merely frustrated him to no end, teasing him every day with her tight skirts, shirts that always fell open to show off her tits and her sexy legs.

Giving his head a shake to clear it, he watched her. Brooke remained at the head of the table, her baby blues lined with black makeup staying focused on him. “Mr. Marshall, I’m in agreement over the merger.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Ms. Silverwood.”

Her eyebrows rose at the obvious bite to his voice before her seductive grin slid back into place. “Before we close the deal, I believe there are some final details to work out.”

She stood from her seat then strode toward the door. His focus went straight to her heart-shaped ass clad in a black skirt, which hugged all her fine curves. Exactly how he liked his women; an ass that could take a pounding without fear he’d break her.

As he watched her strut, his dick twitched at the way her hips swayed. She might have moved with such grace without realizing it, but he didn’t much care. He’d love to see that body sliding so elegantly over his, drenched in sweat from a seriously good screw.

When she locked the office door, his semi-hard cock went rock-hard. What’s she up to? She turned back to him and her blue eyes had darkened, those sensual lips of hers parted. He straightened his back, tightening his fists at his sides as heat pooled into his groin.

“Now that we’re alone, we can agree on a few conditions.” Her voice had somehow grown throatier and his cock acknowledged the power her voice had over him by throbbing.

He followed her every step as she approached him. Those longs legs, perfect silky calves and fuck-me heels that brought his thoughts to X-rated places delighted him. “Conditions?”

She unbuttoned her suit jacket then tossed it onto one of the chairs. His mouth went dry. Her pink silk top hung delicately over her luscious frame. She had round and soft breasts that he could bury his face into and curves that no woman should possess, since they could be his undoing.

Once in front of him, she stared intently, angling her head up to meet his gaze, since she was a good bit shorter than he. “I’ll sign the deal. Merge the companies. But you have one condition to meet before I do.”

Am I imagining this?

The woman was a corporate temptress—not only did she succeed in business, but she succeeded in the art of seduction. He found himself captivated. From her husky voice to the confident twinkle in her gaze and even her choice of clothing appeared to tease a man. But was she coming on to him or was this wishful thinking?

He swallowed, refusing his instincts to grab on to her and see if her mouth tasted as good as it looked. “Again, what conditions?”

“The issue between us.”

He inhaled, catching a whiff of her sweet perfume, but beneath it, all he scented was aroused woman. “Issue?”

She slid her finger up his forearm in a slow, seductive caress and he tensed. “Now now, Evan. I never took you for a man who didn’t see things for how they are.” Her gaze followed the path her finger took and heat rushed through his veins. “You think I haven’t noticed how you fuck me with your eyes.”

Her blunt statement tightened his muscles. Women never spoke that like. Not unless he dreamed of it, then fantasized over it later. But what game was she playing? First she’d teased him for days and now she increased it? “Point being?”

“Well, you see,” her fingernail continued to trail up his arm, “for us to continue with this merger, we can’t have this distraction.”

That rich tone of hers drifted over him, making his desires rear up. The tickle from her nail awakened the part of him that wanted to bang her ruthlessly. Right now the merger happened to be the last thing on his mind.

“This deal will merge two top companies together and we need to focus to see it succeed.” Her gaze lifted and her tongue slid across her lip, drawing his focus to her luscious mouth. “How can we focus with this sexual tension between us?”

He paused, considering if he’d heard her correctly. Had the blood rushing to his cock somehow switched off his mind? “How do you want to fix that?”

She put her hand on his chest and as she slid it down his stomach, he gritted his teeth. That light touch of hers continued until she cupped his erection. “You get the merger.” She stroked him slowly. “I get this.”

Stacey Kennedy’s novels are lighthearted fantasy with heart-squeezing, thigh-clenching romance, and even give a good chuckle every now and again. She lives in Southwestern Ontario with her husband and two children. If she’s not plugging away at a new story—which is rare because her muse is annoying—you’ll find her camping, curling up with the latest flick, or obsessing over Sons of Anarchy, Games of Thrones, Supernatural and Dexter.